


Before Botany Bay

by LornaHarrisonStan



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Backstory, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LornaHarrisonStan/pseuds/LornaHarrisonStan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Khan that he ended up on the ship Botany Bay, destined for exile in a cryogenic sleep? Khan's history is a web of tangled deceptions, lies, and unbreakable attachments. He's already lost everything, even before Admiral Marcus wakes him from the cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Creator Returns

**Author's Note:**

> I recently watched Wrath of Khan in addition to Star Trek Into Darkness, and it struck me that Khan's only real problem is that the man ~cannot~ control his emotions. That was just really curious.

Khan sat on the edge of his bed, posture impeccably straight, as always, and let out a long breath through his nose. It was an hour until dawn, and he had slept long enough. The windows in the wall in front of him were all still dark, barely illuminated by the lighting in the courtyard outside. He could go join the morning watch, but likely they would insist he wasn’t needed anyways, likely with overeager grins or hunched shoulders. He had given up confronting those; they weren’t worth the effort. He shifted as a knock came at his door, clearing his throat. “Come in.”

The door opened and Lana slid inside, shutting the door behind her with a resolute click. She was shuffling her feet after a twenty-four hour stretch of patrol. _Weak,_ Khan thought automatically, face passive. “I just finished my shift,” Lana sighed, in a voice much stronger and louder than the hour called for, “You’ll never believe who I just happened across in the last five minutes,” she reached up behind her to tug her auburn hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall down around her shoulders. Khan smiled slightly, knowing that if he remained silent she would remain in permanent silence until given some signal that he was paying attention, and briefly played with the concept of seeing how long the two of them could remain silent, then decided on the kinder alternative.

“Who?” he replied concisely, watching as she bent to unlace her boots before kicking off the heavy things with a thump onto the wooden floor.

“Director Janice,” she hummed, as calmly as if announcing the mailman. Khan stiffened, frowning down at Lana. She ignored him for a moment, peeling off her socks and stuffing them into her boots. He was used to her complete lack of concern over taking over a space, and had stopped complaining. What else were friends for, really?

“Are you going to continue with that or are you going to leave me in suspense?” Khan deadpanned, arching an eyebrow slightly. She chuckled, standing and rolling her shoulders, obviously stalling just to irritate him. He audibly sighed, letting her know it was working, and to get over the game.

“She asked about you,” Lana shrugged, crossing to the old dresser in the corner and rooting through the top drawer, which she had claimed as hers months ago. He assumed she found it more convenient than walking all the way back to her room when she spent so much time in his room. “Wanted to know what you were up to. Who you had talked to recently. I didn’t tell her anything, so you can stop look at me like that,” she added, even though she was facing away from him. He snorted, but he did rearrange his features into something less stern. So the Director had finally come back to check up on her precious experiments, had she? It had been years since her last checkup; likely she’d been travelling around the world to share notes with colleagues. He knew what she’d do now, and he was not looking forward to her manipulation.

“Thank you, for warning me,” Khan sighed, regretting his earlier evaluation of Lana’s strength, as silent as it was. She was still incredibly useful at gathering information; better for her physical inferiority, in fact. “Lana, you’ve been in that drawer for two minutes, what on earth are you looking for?”

“Did you move my shirt? You know, the one I slept in a couple of days ago?” She asked immediately, twisting to look over her shoulder, eyebrows raised.  
“You mean the old lady nightie?” he quipped with a smirk, tilting his head towards the shirt, folded up neatly on the floor at the foot of the bed. She rolled her eyes, huffing at his expression, and shut the drawer.

“I’m only three years older than you, Khan,” Lana reminded lightheartedly, crossing the room to retrieve the shirt, pursing her lips as she shook out his careful folds and tossed it on the bed beside him.

“I know,” he chuckled as she peeled off the heavy patrol jacket and breathed a sigh of relief to be free of the tough padding. The rest of her clothes were shimmied off and dropped in a heap at her feet as Khan continued, “You’re practically ancient.” Lana pulled the overlarge shirt on, her sigh muffled in the fabric momentarily.

“If _I’m_ ancient, I shudder to imagine what you call anybody over five years older than you. Do you actually tell them the same things to their faces? There’s a _reason_ you haven’t got any friends,” she scoffed, throwing herself onto the mattress backwards hard enough to jostle Khan. After a moment he let his back hit the bed beside her, a faint smile still on his face. She yanked the covers out of the bedframe and shifted up to slide under the sheets, glancing towards Khan with a smirk that said she knew exactly what she was doing. It was a hobby of hers to leave her things strewn in an untidy path through his quarters. As she curled up under the covers and tried to sleep for the first time in a complete day, Khan rolled up out of bed and crossed the room to shut the blinds over the windows. Dawn was not far away, and interrupting Lana’s sleep with something as mundane as natural light would put her in a bad mood. That done, he made for the door. The Director would likely come to find him if he remained here, and he didn’t want Lana to be associated with him quite yet; it would put her at a high risk, and it would only be too easy to manipulate him through some threat to her. He paused with his hand on the doorknob to glance back at Lana, the covers piled on top of her already rising slowly and evenly. Smirking slightly, he walked out, shutting the door gently behind him.

The hall was empty; unsurprising, at this hour. The patrol was changing shifts, but it would be the left wing’s responsibility at the moment, and they hardly ever crossed into the right wing. Still, any Augments who were awake were likely crowding the cafeteria. The Director always avoided being outnumbered by her own creations. Khan had never blamed her for that. Wasn’t it only common sense for the scientist who had raised the lions to be cautious around them? He knew that in other Augment bases that the directors who had made wrong moves had commonly been found dead. In fact, it was still ambiguous as to what had happened to Director Janice’s partner. Director Frank had died under suspicious circumstances five years earlier, supposedly of natural causes. Khan had always suspected foul play, especially after Janice began to drastically change the training regime soon after Frank’s demise. Suddenly, it had become a lot more war-oriented.

Deciding that the Director would be holed up in her quarters, deciding on her next move, he turned right and walked quickly forwards, keeping his hands relaxed at his sides. She would know he was coming through the security cameras dispersed liberally throughout the complex, and keeping her in the dark about his intentions was his highest priority. The fact that he had not yet decided on a course of action himself would be an advantage. Anything to keep her guessing.

 

2 YEARS EARLIER

The explosion rocked through the building, the floor tilting to an extreme angle beneath them. Lana stumbled into his side slightly, hissing a curse under her breath. “I’m pretty sure they forgot to mess around with the strands that handled grace,” she muttered, looking frustrated as she kept a hand clenched in the material of his shirt, and Khan chuckled.  
“That’s the price for having been born first, unfortunately,” he smirked, only laughing as she elbowed him. Their creators had been rather inexperienced with the first batch, and had steadily improved the further along they went. Khan, being one of the youngest, was one of the best. It was the way of things.

“Focus, Khan,” The Director's voice bit harshly through his earpiece. Khan squared his jaw, exchanging a glance with Lana. They were here because the Director had manipulated them here. She had lied; Martin’s death had been for naught. Another Augment, dead. She would not be forgiven easily.


	2. No Rights

Three minutes later and he was knocking sharply on her door, staring straight into the worn wood of the door until it swung open, the Director looking expectantly up at him. Janice had aged gracefully, for a non-Augment. Her blonde hair had begun graying at the temples, and her once-youthful face had gradually lined around the corners of her mouth and eyes. Even with encroaching age, her ice-blue eyes had not lost their spark. Khan had no doubt that Janice’s intelligence had not wavered, and she was one of the only non-Augments that he had any respect for.

“Khan Noonien Singh,” the Director muttered, looking him up and down once before remembering to smile, and stepped back into her room, opening the door further with her. “Come in.”

“Had a good journey, I trust?” Khan hummed, stepping through the doorway and allowing Janice to shut the door behind him. Somebody had been alerted of her impending presence; the room was clean, and far less dusty than it should have been after two years.

“It was fine,” Janice said, her voice clipped. She strode purposely past him, pulling a communicator out of her pocket and tapping in a quick message, eyebrows drawn together. “I’ve just come from America, actually. Spoke with Director Karen. She’s beginning to worry me, honestly.” Khan raised an eyebrow slightly, and she glanced over at him with an amused snort. “She’s lost six Augments in the past two months. Two to in-fighting, the other four…” she shook her head.

“What? Don’t leave me in suspense, Director,” Khan prodded. The Director gave him a dark look, pursing her lips. She turned, setting down the communicator on her cluttered desk, and began straightening papers. _Always pausing for the dramatic effect,_ Khan thought to himself, keeping his expression from becoming as scathing as he wished it could be.

“They were deemed failures. Shot in their sleep,” She deadpanned, continuing to rifle through her mess as if she were looking for something in particular. “You know how they are about Augments. Not a lot of people see you as people, especially in areas of conflict… If they don’t do their job, they can’t be fired. They’re just failed experiments.” She fell silent, turning finally to look Khan in the eye. He found himself speechless, overtaken with a sudden fierce anger. Janice’s face was blank. It was just a scientist giving facts; not even statistics that six people had died due to a careless Director. A colleague of hers had murdered four people in their sleep because they had yielded unexpected results. Khan couldn’t help but wonder what their particular offenses had been. Explosive anger, perhaps? A lack of morals? Or the opposite, over-sentimentality? _Half the people I know would be subject to being put down if those are the grounds at which they decide we’re failures._

“How many others? What about the base in Brazil? China? South Africa? India?” He demanded, stepping forwards quickly enough to startle the Director into backing into her desk. As she jolted, he jerked to a stop, inhaling sharply through his nose. _Stop. Look how she’s looking at you. She’s aware of her fragility._ This was not the time to lose control. Who was to say that this Director could be different than any of the other? After all, if all it took was a well-placed bullet to the head…

“Everyone’s lost people,” Janice replied after a moment of silence, still leaning backwards away from him slightly. “It’s only Australia and us that haven’t had casualties in the last two years.”  
“And I expect you couldn’t say anything against it, am I right?” Khan growled, turning on his heel to pace across the floor. She had done it again; coming back after a prolonged absence, bringing with her strife and puzzles and unreasonable violence. _Deaths that could have been averted…_ Lana had said that exact thing to him. Even now, it stuck with him.

“It was unavoidable, Khan,” The Director snapped, gripping the edge of the table behind her, knuckles white. “You haven’t got any _rights,_ haven’t you learned that by now? It’s about time you proved your worth to the rest of humankind. There’s a _war_ out there, and do you know what the sad truth is?” she spat, taking a step towards him, “You were _bred_ for it.”

2 YEARS EARLIER

“He’s _worthless,_ Khan!” The Director screamed, her face flushed with anger. The gun was sweaty in his hand, trying to slip from his grip. He tightened his fingers until the metal dented beneath them, all the while refusing to look at the Director. Martin did the same, staring through Khan as if he were sightless. No tears, no panic, no remorse. Perhaps Martin was an accident. _He’s unfeeling. Janice insists he broke the rules. Killed a local. Hid the body. How does she know?_ The little voice in the back of Khan’s mind was really acting up today. He needed to fix that later. “I said, shoot him!”

Squaring his shoulders, Khan pressed the muzzle of the gun firmly against Martin’s forehead. He ignored the muttering in the circle of people around them, blocked out Janice’s nagging. “I’m sorry, Martin,” he murmured, just loud enough for an Augment to hear. The Director would not even know he had spoken. Martin’s eyes darted up for a split second. He leaned his head ever so slightly against the gun. _He didn’t do it. Why is Janice lying? Sorry, Martin._  
Khan closed his eyes, cocked the gun, and pulled the trigger.


	3. Filters

                Ten minutes later and Khan was in the courtyard, watching the patrol meander by on the rooftops. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back. He couldn’t figure out how to feel about anything at the moment, so it was best to isolate himself away from anybody else. Gravel crunched behind him.

                “Khan,” Culann greeted, stepping up beside Khan with a slight dip of his head. Khan sighed, closing his eyes. Hardly surprising that Culann would find him now, when he was most likely to lash out in anger. “I hear you’ve been to see the Director already. What did she say?”

                Khan turned his head to look at Culann directly. _He has no idea what’s ahead for us. Better that he is warned now._ “There have been deaths. It’s uncertain how long it will be until it will affect us,” Khan said truthfully. Culann took a deep breath, looking up at the pinking sky.

                “I see,” he nodded, running a hand through his curly red hair. “That explains a lot, I suppose.”

                “Hmm?” Khan looked back towards him, interest peaked.

                “The last time I went into town… well, the locals were less than happy to see us. Called us war mongrels, which I thought was a bit of an odd reaction to ordering a couple of pints,” Culann shrugged.  Khan frowned, tapping his thumb thoughtfully against his other hand. Then he turned on his heel, walking purposefully across the gravel towards the center atrium, expecting the other Augment to follow on principle. Culann jogged a few steps to catch up, mirroring Khan’s expression. “Eh, where are we going, then?”

                “I want to know what they’ve been filtering from us,” Khan shrugged, giving a fleeting, reassuring smile before continuing, “But I’m going to need your help. I need you to bring me Sheridan, and possibly Charis. _If_ she’s awake; I know she’s prone to throwing shoes.”

                “That’s for bloody certain,” Culann grumbled, rubbing absently at his forehead. Khan smirked. He still remembered that particular mark. “Right, I’ll go get Sheridan, at the very least,” Culann nodded, then peeled off, kicking into a jog towards the right wing. Khan didn’t pause to watch him go, just pushed forward, elbowing open the Atrium door as he reached it. The atrium was, essentially, the business part of the complex. Most of the training rooms were contained in its interior, and it was the only place in the complex where somebody could connect to the outside world. The news room itself was always occupied by at least one Augment; if anything major happened they would always have advance warning. Currently, the circular room was only occupied by Iris. She was sprawled across three of the chairs, pulled forwards until she could watch the news on her back, the television screens tilted down to an extreme angle until they faced the floor. Khan stepped forward, leaning into her vision.

                “You finally decide to stop fooling around with Lana and be embraced by my _loving_ arms?” Iris drawled, shifting her gaze from the screen to Khan. He smirked.

                “I imagine Sayen would be extremely displeased with me,” he chuckled, tilting the screen out of his way. Iris sat up, shrugging.

                “She’d get over it. _She_ could go fool around with Lana instead. Sayen could take better care of her than you could,” Iris retorted, although her tone was less harsh than her words suggested. Even so, the words stung slightly. _We both know Lana has no delusions about it either._

                “Sayen could take care of a lot of people better than I could,” Khan shrugged, keeping his polite smile up. “Either way, unlikely to happen. Sayen and Lana have opposing patrol shifts. One of them would always be asleep.”

                “Oh, Khan, always the realist. What are you doing in my humble little throne room, anyways?” Iris snorted, arching her brows upwards. Khan was cut off by Culann sweeping into the room, Sheridan right behind him.

                “Charis is in the process of waking up. She’ll be down when she’s had a shower,” Culann reported, clapping Sheridan on the shoulder as he passed, still by the door. “And now I have to go see the Director; I’d stay, but you know how it is…” he shook his head. Khan nodded, waving.

                “Go on, then. Thank you, by the way,” Khan added, turning back to the screen and adjusting it so it was level with his head. Sheridan cleared his throat, approaching timidly from behind and stopping at Khan’s shoulder.

                “You asked for me?” he asked quietly, dark eyes darting around the room. _Always uncertain. He has no concept of arrogance. At least I don’t need to worry about bruising his ego. Quite the opposite, actually._

                “Yes. I understand you’re fairly adept at breaking through the filters,” Khan replied, walking around Iris’s homemade bed and crouching on the floor beneath the screen, where the wires entered the floor. “I’m going to need you to do that for me. Open up the news sources the outside locals are getting.” He dug his fingers under the rug surrounding the panel he knew from experience was beneath, pulling it up and peeling it back until the brass was revealed. Why it had been made of brass when another metal would have done was a mystery to him, but it didn’t necessarily matter. “Iris?” he prompted, holding out his hand in her general direction without turning. She sighed, but in a moment the metal file was in his hand.

                “If you end up breaking that one of these days I fully expect you to go out to town and buy me another,” She muttered. Khan cracked a smile, then pried the panel up from the floor. _I should go out and buy my own. I imagine the looks from the locals would be amusing._

“Khan,” Sheridan cleared his throat, kneeling by his side. Khan nodded, climbing to his feet and stepping back, giving the Augment space to work. Iris leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist.

                “Is there a reason you nuts are digging through the filters again?” Iris hummed, looking expectantly at Khan. He sighed.

                “The Director is back,” was all he had to say for her to nod, averting her eyes towards the television screen. Remembering Martin. The screen flickered, static filling the speakers as Sheridan worked his magic in the control panel. After a moment, he sat back, looking expectantly upwards at it. It was another moment before the image cleared and the audio returned.

                “… _tage of the Augment attack on *shrkp* that assassinated America’s *shhrkp*… Viewer discretion *shrk* is advised…”_ the audio crackled, cutting out in key places where the filter must have been strongest. The Augments in the room all shifted forward slightly as the image flipped to a grainy security footage.

                Wherever it was, the building was rich, and the squad of six figures in the video were armed to the teeth. They were shouting at each other. Two broke into fighting seconds later, dropping their guns and lunging forward to slam their fists into each other. From the force of it, they must’ve been Augments. The other four made no effort to split them up, each with a hand to one of their ears. Earpieces, then. They turned, reluctantly, and ran out of frame. The next camera that caught them taped them dragging a man into frame, the leader’s hand clenched around the back of his neck. They seemed to be arguing amongst themselves, ignoring the man in their grasp. The audio came back on, the newsman’s voiceover continuing; _“…*shrkp* fights back…”_ and, indeed, the man caught by the Augments was struggling in the figure’s hand, jerking his elbow back into the Augment’s face. The figure’s head snapped back to absorb the blow, and as the man slammed his heel back into the figure’s instep, the Augment brought their gun up to the back of the man’s head and pulled the trigger. The image returned to the newsman. _“…The Augments responsible have been put down. The two seen earlier were found dead, and it appears that *shhnkrp* each other to death. Director Karen of the *shrk* Institute said in a public statement yesterday that Augments should be *shp* with extreme caution. Many officials are calling for inspections of these special ‘Institutes’ to take place, and that any Augments not meeting U.N. regulations for genetic experiments should be *shrrrrRRKKKKK*…”_ The audio cut off with a sharp crackle, both Iris and Khan looking to Sheridan as he cursed, bending back over the control panel, fumbling with wires.

                “It’s no use,” Sheridan sighed after a minute, leaning back on his heels as the television apparently reset itself. “Whoever’s out there controlling the filter just sent a reboot signal. I don’t think we should try again.” Khan nodded, brow furrowed. Janice had told him partial truths, then. Yet she had failed to mention the assassination, or the public unrest. _What game is she playing at, keeping that from us? Does she plan to comply with the inspections?_

“Well, that was interesting,” Iris muttered, tilting her head towards Khan slightly. “Any particular reason you wanted to bypass the filters so much just to see that?” Khan gave her a sharp look.

                “No. Not yet,” he shook his head. _Better not worry them with half-truths. I won’t do what the Director has done to me._

                2 YEARS EARLIER

“What do you mean Martin’s committed homicide?” Lana scoffed, her hands pausing in Khan’s hair. She had been combing her fingers through it; a favorite pastime of hers. He didn’t mind it.

                “He’s killed the bartender in the town bar,” Khan shook his head, staring out the window at the sunset. Lana took a deep breath, leaning back slightly. “Director Janice just told me.”

                “I- I can’t take her at her word. You know that,” she muttered. He twisted to gauge her expression. She was upset; shoulders suddenly much tenser than they had been a moment ago. _She doesn’t like being the one informed. She’s too used to finding things out alone._ “Is there a body?” she continued, grasping at straws. Khan shook his head, slowly.

                “They’ve been unable to locate it. I’m sure they’ll find it.”

                “Sure, Khan. Sure.” 


	4. Discussing Directors

                Charis slipped through the door a moment later, Sheridan immediately shrinking back, as if trying to lessen his involvement. “What was I woken up for?” she asked calmly, eyes flitting directly to Khan. Iris leaned away this time.

                “We thought we could use your technical skill… turns out its, well. A bit late, I suppose,” Khan cleared his throat. Charis continued staring at him. _Has she always been that good at a dead look?_ There was a long, awkward silence.

                “Don’t let it happen again,” Charis said in a monotone, turning slowly and exiting through the door as smoothly as she’d entered. The room breathed a small, collective sigh of relief.

                “Was it really necessary to invite Charis? I can deal with the filters most of the time…” Sheridan murmured, sliding the control panel back into its place and smoothing the rug over it again.

                “I was actually a bit more concerned with her being awake with the Director home,” Khan sighed, straightening the hem of his shirt. “Janice never liked her.”

                “Hold up, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Iris cut in, frowning.

                “I’m saying we all need to be a little bit more cautious now. Or didn’t you see the footage?” Khan snorted, jerking his head towards the screens. She looked away, biting her lip. “Just – watch out. But don’t cause anyone unnecessary panic,” he sighed, annoyed with himself for having used that tone with Iris. She was not one to take things seriously, and to force her into it before she was ready would cause complications.

                Sheridan shifted, tapping his fingers against the floor, then rose to his feet. “I have to go look through some things. Hope I was helpful,” he said softly, stepping carefully around the two others and heading for the door. They let him go in silence.

               

                Lana woke when the sun was highest in the sky. She took a moment to decide whether or not it would be worth getting up, and then heaved a deep sigh. Khan would likely be waiting for her appearance, and keeping him waiting with the looming presence of the Director in the building would only make him irritable. She rolled out of bed, taking the sheets with her. She wasn’t expecting the cough from the other side of the room, alerting her to his presence on purpose. He must have been really worried, if he had waited to make sure he caught her.

                “Stop lurking by the curtains and help untangle me from these damned sheets,” Lana sighed, lying limply on the floor as Khan chuckled, stepping quietly across the room and bending to extricate her.

                “I wasn’t lurking. Somebody with better hearing would have noticed me right away. I made sure to breathe for you,” he hummed, pretending he hadn’t seen her mouth a curse. She stretched and stepped over the mound of fabric to dig through the dresser, searching for clothes she’d washed in the last month. It was a raging mess, if she was being honest. Khan’s drawers were more organized than a military cemetery. “I had Sheridan break through the censor.”

                She twisted to look at him, taking a deep breath. “What did you find this time?”

                “Six augments killed an American official. Don’t know who, or why, but now six Augments are dead and we haven’t a reason for any of it. Janice threatened us with inspections, whatever that means. We should all be put down, by normal standards,” Khan huffed, turning away from her to stare out the windows. _He’s worried about it, and he’s not telling me everything he knows. Is he? I’m too suspicious… this is Khan. Expect it._

Lana swallowed, turning back to the dresser and pulling out a random set of clothing. “I doubt it will affect us immediately… Still. As a warning; Lilith has been acting erratically. Janice will notice soon, and if she allows _inspections…_ Something could go wrong.” Khan nodded, without turning back to her, the set of his shoulders tense. He was slipping on his control. She took another deep breath and quickly dressed. This was going to be a longer day than normal.

               

                “Resentment has grown, your Honor. The Treasurer’s assassination cannot go unpunished.” The voice came from a man with slicked-back hair and a pen in his hand, which he constantly tapped against the table. The other two people in the overly large room ignored it.

                “The Augments responsible _have_ been punished, Mr. Darcy. They were put to death for their crime. Without trial, due process, and after they peacefully surrendered, too. I think you got your punishment, Mr. Darcy,” the other man at the long, dark table responded, his voice gruff. Both of the other two looked at this man with respect, their eyes occasionally flicking to the various medals on his otherwise plain uniform.

                “Your Honor, Mr. Darcy, I’d like to file a complaint,” the woman finally stated, raising her chin slightly as the eyes of both men came to rest on her. She had donned her lab coat for the day, and had not bothered doing anything about the chemical stain on the collar or about her hair, which had begun escaping determinedly from its bun.

                “Speak up, Ms. Karen,” the gruff man with the title of ‘Honor’ coughed, proving a lifelong habit of smoking was bad for the lungs.

                “Your Honor, her name should be referred to as Director,” Darcy cut in, tapping his pen on the table for each word he spoke.

                “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Continue, Director.”

                Karen nodded, squaring her shoulders again and forcing herself to make eye contact with the Justice. He remained relaxed. Karen always worried about formalities, but it was easier than dealing with Janice’s dodging questions. “Your Honor, it is not American to kill peacefully-surrendering men and women without proper processing, or a Director’s approval.”

                “Objection, your Honor. Augments are neither American citizens nor are they legally classified as human. They have no rights in that manner.” Both Karen and the Justice gave Darcy a dry look of varying degrees of parched. He appeared not to notice.

                “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am aware of the legal ramifications of killing Augments. But have you considered the small-mindedness of failing to give non-humans rights?”

                “Sir?”

                “Cryogenics is a proven science. We’ve been to outer space, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, we have _left_ the _solar system.”_

Darcy looked scandalized, his well-polished façade dropping slightly as he scoffed. “Are you referring to a potential for alien life, your Honor? Not even Directors believe in that nonsense!”

                “Is that so, Mr. Darcy? Director Karen, your opinion, please,” The Justice returned smoothly, raising his graying eyebrows slightly at the Director.

                “I believe in alien life, your Honor,” Karen shrugged, ignoring the betrayed snort Darcy gave off, the pen tapping agitatedly.

                “See, Mr. Darcy? Open your mind.”

                “Ridiculous.”

                “Maybe. Still, a valid concern. Director Karen, I have to deny your complaint. We don’t want to involve Director Janice, do we?”

                The room seemed to take a simultaneous breath, Darcy and Karen both leaning back in the slightest degree. Besides the fact she was a foreigner… there was something mildly disturbing about the woman. “…No. Your Honor, is it too late to transfer Khan Noonien Singh and Culann Keen to… hell, anywhere else. Just out of her influence.”

                “If you had known she was going to be holding such high threats back when they were children… I could have done something. Now? I have surveillance footage of the two sparring for _fun,_ and, Director Karen, it is the most brutal thing I have ever been witness to. It was akin to bears fighting over salmon.” The Justice shuddered once, the most telling body language the other two had ever seen out of him.

                Darcy sighed, exchanging a regretful glance with the Director. “That means nothing, your Honor. I agree with Director Karen. Janice cannot be trusted with such powerful weapons. If they cannot be removed, they should be eliminated.”

                “Isn’t that a bit extreme, Darcy? These are people. I would know; I saw them grow,” Karen murmured, looking more troubled than she had before. The Justice rubbed at his eyes. Darcy laughed.

                “What, do you think they _like_ you? You’re an American, and a human, and six Augments have recently died under your care.”

                “I resent that accusation! It’s the fault of people like _you_ they died in the first place! _I_ certainly didn’t push them to assassinate the Treasurer! I think the real question here is _who did?”_

The Justice slid in again, steepling his fingers in front of him regally. “Director Karen, Mr. Darcy, please. I think we can rule out either of you. Director Janice had been visiting that month, had she not?”

                “Yes, your Honor,” the other two said simultaneously, both sounding unsure. The Justice nodded, leaning back into his padded chair, and fell silent.

               

                2 YEARS EARLIER

“Fuck you, Lana. I know I hit it – Old _Richard_ could have that smashed, you know it!” Martin protested in a shout, picking up Lana and slinging her over his back without a huff of an exertion. She smacked the back of his blond head.

                “Fuck _you!”_ She snickered, twisting around his shoulders so she could point ahead at the target, where a horseshoe was embedded in an old, rusting truck. The horseshoe was a few centimeters away from a dark black circle, colored there in marker. “You’re off-center! Khan, Charis, back me up here!”

                “She’s got you, Martin – aren’t you always making fun of _her_ eyes?” Charis laughed, crouching beside the makeshift target, shaking with amusement. A glowing figure, compared to who she would become in several months. Khan chuckled, walking up beside Martin and rescuing Lana from his grasp and setting her ground.

                “Come on you three; we’re not supposed to be in town this late. Let’s go home before somebody gets in trouble.” 


	5. Hidden

     Siobhan leaned over the edge of the stone wall surrounding the compound, Declan’s fingers hooked into her belt to make sure she didn’t fall as she unhooked the flag from its post. It had been 24 hours since the Director’s return, and the patrol had fallen to Khan’s shift. “This whole business with the assassination in America is a waste of everyone’s time,” Claudius bemoaned, continuing their hour-long scattered discussion on the matter. It tended to fade out as they focused on their duties. “A few Augments went rogue. What’s the point? Humans kill each other in droves, and it’s not exactly as if we were born to _not_ have that drive.”

     Culann and Khan exchanged a glance, each shifting the rifle on their shoulder slightly. The night was cold enough for condensation to cloud up the air in front of them. If their lungs had been even hotter, the condensation might have been steam. “That’s a poor way of looking at things, Claud,” Declan murmured, eyes fixed evasively on the fog floating slowly down on them. Siobhan folded the flag under her arm and tucked it into the belt, where Declan had recently removed his fingers.

     “Not a very intelligent way, certainly,” Siobhan added. Claudius’s gaze flicked from Declan to Siobhan. The four of them were well aware that part of the reason Claudius was even in this particular patrol was because the Director trusted Khan and Culann to subdue him, if things went awry. Khan himself didn’t even know if Claudius knew this, or suspected it. He hadn’t bothered to ask Lana, and she hadn’t volunteered the information. She didn’t volunteer information unless she thought he would be interested, or he needed it, and neither applied to Claudius.

     “Oh, hush yourselves. I’m not the only one who thinks we should look after ourselves more than we should bother looking after foreigners. Narcissus; he doesn’t care. Bet Charis doesn’t, either,” Claud pointed out, breath coming out in a sharp huff.

     “Narcissus lives up to his name, though, if you haven’t noticed for yourself,” Culann murmured. Khan glanced at him, an eyebrow rising a millimeter. Culann wasn’t one to insert himself into these squabbles unless it was to defend another’s words. Did he have a point to this? “He’s not interested in much more than posing for the camera. Although, I guess we do have to be grateful. He funds our cable television.”

     Siobhan cracked a smile as the group began moving down the wall again, gravel gritting beneath their compound-issued boots. The wall hadn’t been properly paved since the day it’d been built, an indeterminable time ago. “Iris offered to put one of his spreads up in the women’s showers, but he said ‘If the lot of you only want me for my body, at least _approach_ me about it,’ and refused. I think he thought of it as a sort of proposition.”

     Declan chuckled, turning and walking backwards so he could talk to them face-to-face. “Iris only sees propositions when she wants to.” He narrowly avoided tripping over a piece of the wall that had crumbled into the path. Culann stopped to heft it back into place, the muscles in his bare arms barely flexing from the effort. Khan knew first hand what it was like to be in front of the power those arms could produce; they both walked away with bruises whenever they decided to spar, and that was from pulled punches.

     “I hope you haven’t let Sayen catch you propositioning her. You might wake her territorial side,” Khan smiled slightly, raising his brows to emphasize his point. Not that Sayen was likely to start a fight with Declan, regardless of her weapon prowess. If anyone, Iris would instigate the violence. Either way, it was for their best interests’ that Khan cleaned up that mess before it blew up out of proportion. Declan had no answer for him but a chuckle, shaking his head as he turned back around to walk correctly along the wall. The 24/7 patrols had only once ever come across an emergency that had given the Institute a critically advance warning, but they still continued, likely to keep the penned-up Augments from murdering each other out of boredom, and to split up their numbers a bit more. Opposing patrols rarely ever saw each other, let alone befriended one another. Khan had no idea what the other Institutes were like, partially because Janice refused to answer his questions on the matter and partially because there seemed to be absolutely no information on the matter. The locals -well, some of them- were always keen to strike up conversations about Augments, but even the most knowledgeable claimed to know nothing about the other Institutes, and their internets were likely not censored. Not even Sheridan had been able to tell him that from their remote location.

     “Director Janice mention Karen to you, Khan?” Culann inquired suddenly, his voice quiet, meant only for him. The others could hear, of course, but if they were polite they would do their best to block them out and pretend they couldn’t. Khan nodded his head a fraction, dark gray-blue eyes sliding over to meet his through the fog. _Karen had her own charges killed. Janice is going to mislead us on this, she’s smart._ Culann nodded in return, adjusting his rifle again with a clinking of metal. “I thought she might. What did she say? Somethin’ about incompetence?” he continued. He tended to leave off consonants when he was feeling agitated, Khan had noted.

     “Yes. Janice claimed she was worried about her. I suspect it has more to do with the respective Director’s intelligence. You know Janice finds smart ones difficult to manipulate,” the dark-haired Augment murmured, Culann giving a slight snort of agreement.

     “That’s what I thought.”

* * *

 

     “Darcy, I _insist_ you stop touching my equipment,” Karen demanded from across the room, her voice distracted. There was the sound of glass colliding, more violently than the Director wanted to be hearing from within her laboratory. “Darcy....”

     “Hush. I didn’t break anything, Karen. Just looking,” the dapper man soothed, his fingers tapping out a frantic rhythm on the epoxy-resin tables. Karen sighed. She’d learned to put up with his constant need to move his fingers. “ _Fascinating_ in here. You know, you’ve never shown me the birthing room like you promised last year. Even if it _is_ empty.”

     “That’s because you would find it terribly boring,” she droned, packing away the box in front of her with a huff of breath, blowing stray strands of hair out of her face as she shoved the box back under the desk. Janice had to have disturbed something in here - where had she forgotten to check? “Nothing is visible to the eye, anyways. All computerized. My late colleague’s insistence, if you can remember that far back.” She pulled open a drawer with a bang and began rifling through the folders, squinting down at the messily-scrawled names that marked each one.

     Darcy made a thoughtful humming noise, turning and observing the rest of the lab, trying to imagine it filled with scientists, all trying to create the perfect example of life. Idiots. “Yes, such a shame about him... An Augment killed him, right?”

     “Yes. Although it wasn’t made public, you understand. I can’t afford to lose Meyer, as much as you may think I would be better off without the lot of them,” Karen sighed sharply, slamming shut the drawer and placing her fist on the table to support herself. “With Director Janice threatening me with Culann and Khan every time I move against her...”

     “I understand your concern. Meyer is your strongest.”

     “I might have banded with Directors Elena and Gabriel if they weren’t, well, imprisoned...their Augments have complete control.”

     “What?” Darcy demanded, turning sharply enough that his continuous tapping halted momentarily, then began again even more frantic than before. “Why haven’t I heard of this?” Karen finally bothered to look up at him from the desk.

     “It’s not exactly common knowledge, Darcy. We Directors already have enough suspicion pointed our way. But I thought you should know. If you’re as committed to finding enough information to incarcerate her as you say you are...” she trailed off, leaving a pointed silence.

* * *

 

     Lana shoved Lilith into the padded wall, the thud from the metal beneath reverberating through her Lilith and into her hands. Lilith cursed, gripping onto Lana’s arm and twisting, forcing her to step back. They’d been sparring for two hours now, both of them drenched with sweat from their activities. The two were an interesting pair to watch; Lilith tall and agile, all rounded muscle and sharp angles; Lana average and dainty, soft-looking and thin. It was the drastic difference of a designed weapon and a carefully crafted flower vase. One meant to repel, to frighten, the other meant to draw in, to hold attention. Another instant, another swing, and Lana crashed onto the ground, nearly biting her tongue in the process, and rolled from a kick that breezed by her side.

     “Ohhh, nice dodge, shortie!” Cathal called, his normally-booming voice slightly subdued by the cushioning on the walls. Charis was beside him, arms crossed over her chest. She herself was shorter than Lana, but then, Cathal loomed at a staggering six-foot-seven, and was the tallest Augment in the compound. Lana gripped onto Lilith’s ankle and yanked, only just barely managing to pull the other woman off her feet before her ankle slipped out of Lana’s hand, slicked up with sweat. She thumped onto the floor besides Lana, her breath leaving her torso in one collected huff.

     “Alright, alright, I admit it, we’re evenly matched. Didn’t expect as much from you, gotta say. You’re all... cuddly.”

     “Think what you like, Lilith,” Lana smiled, propping herself up on her elbows as she waited for her lungs to catch up. “I have to-”

     She was cut off as the doors to the training room were thrown open, the four of them all turning to look as Director Janice stormed in, red liquid coating the length of her right forearm and bloodied folder in her hand. “WHERE. IS _. KHAN?_ ”

 

* * *

 

2 YEARS EARLIER

 

     “Jesus, Martin, who told you that shit? You can’t think that’s _true,”_ Reiley scoffed, hands on his hips as he watched the Martin and Khan slowly rip apart a piece of sheet metal, using only their bare hands and combined effort.

    “I’m serious, Reiley,” Martin grunted, planting a boot on the largest piece of the sheet and heaving backwards, Khan the opposite direction. Every muscle in their corded arms (and backs) stood out as the metal grinded and shrieked and split down the middle of their hands. “She had a kid once. Not us. That’s why she’s so intent on us succeeding. Cause her kid was a murderer.”

     “Don’t speak of this to anyone else, Martin,” Khan frowned, concern crossing his face as he looked across the metal at Martin. “She could find out. And, well. You know.”


	6. Narcissism

     To anyone in the Institute, human or otherwise, the sight of the Director marching across the courtyard with something stained in her hand and a posse of squabbling figures was a sight to be feared. Lana couldn’t even be out there calming fears, since she was part of the crowd being dragged along by the Director’s fearsome aura. There was too much potential for something to go wrong if she left this in Charis’s hands. The woman had changed after Martin’s death, but she was still the second in command of the patrol. The group was being rushed across the lawn towards the only way up onto the wall, where Khan and his shift were on patrol. The Director hadn’t said anything outright about the blood on her arm and the folder, nor why she specifically wanted to see Khan, but Lana had concerns.

     “You ungrateful rats,” Janice seethed, her strides not even pausing with the insult. “This is the welcome home I receive? _Betrayal?”_ The Augments exchanged wide-eyed glances. Betrayal. That spelled death, in the Institute. Martin had been a clear example of that: betraying the Director’s trust was a death sentence, and it would be enacted out by one of their own. Lana still doubted that Khan had ever truly recovered.

     The group ascended the crumbling stone stairs quickly, in single file behind Janice. The initial rage that had been rolling off her when she’d burst into the sparring room had not seemed to have abated a jot. Unfortunately for Khan, it didn’t have a chance to. The patrol was only five yards from the stairwell, all of them looking over their shoulders at the footsteps resounding from the stone. “Director?” Culann was the first to speak, his head held in such a way that subtly suggested deference. The said Director did not halt until she was inches from Khan, glaring up into his stony face with a sneer.

     “ _You_ put him up to it, didn’t you, Khan?” she seethed, spittle flying from between her teeth. Khan remained unflinching, meeting her flaming gaze with level eyes, as if waiting for her to elaborate. They all knew they wouldn’t have long to wait. When she spoke again, it was with a disarming sickly sweetness. “I was gone ten minutes, just getting myself a light snack... my body isn’t as efficient as I made _yours_ to be, after all... And what do I find? Narcissus, _in my quarters._ What was he doing, you ask? Looking for _this._ ” She raised her hand to slap the bloodied folder onto his chest, emphasizing her words. His verdigris eyes slowly dropped to appraise the sullied parchment, his expression remaining unchanging. The Augments surrounding the pair from both sides remained perfectly still. Lana was unsure if the rest of them had all stopped breathing or if it was just her.

     “If I may ask... what is that, Director?” Khan finally queried, his eyebrows rising a fraction as his eyes lifted back to her face. “Additionally... I hope that isn’t _Narcissus’s_ blood. I believe he’s a financial asset to this Institute?” He glanced towards Lana for confirmation, looking mildly satisfied when she gave a sharp nod, finally daring to breathe again. He was regaining control. Janice took a step back, letting the folder drop to her side, and took a deep breath.

     “‘That’ is none of your business, Khan,” the aging woman snapped, appearing to have finally reigned in her fiery temper. Wise, when she was in the midst of so many of her creations. Lana glanced away to look down at the compound, pursing her lips. Where was Narcissus now? A holding pen? The infirmary? “Narcissus - he came at me,” the Director continued, Lana looking back at her soon enough to catch the woman smoothing a hand over her clothes. “I’m afraid I had to put him down,” she finished, voice stiff. Lana bit the inside of her cheek, eyes narrowing. _Liar._

     She knew that Khan was having the same thought by the way the grip on his rifle had tightened ever so slightly. The other Augments seemed to be having the same troubles believing their mother. Lilith and Claudius were glaring at their shoes, Declan had a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the wall, and Siobhan’s face had turned beet-red. Another moment passed, and then the tension was too much; the Director whirled and stormed back away, the Augments creating a path for her with their movement. Then the group was still again, all avoiding meeting one another’s gaze in silence. Declan was the first to make a sound, clearing his throat.

     “I should tell Boudica... They were close,” he said softly, eyes flicking towards Khan, quietly asking permission. He nodded, and Declan left without a word, not even bothering to hand off his rifle to any of the patrol. Lana watched him go, pitying what was ahead of him. Comforting a loved one was never easy.

* * *

  
  


     Narcissus had already been cleaned and well-dressed by the time Janice allowed them to see his body. It had taken them enough negotiating just to be allowed to hold a small service for him; they were barred from examining his body themselves, only further incriminating the Director. Khan stood at the head of the casket, looking down at the still face of his dead brother. Technically, no Augment was related to another, per insistence from the small band of older, smarter scientists that had worked on starting the project. Most of them were dead now. Like Martin. And now Narcissus. Still, Narcissus had been a brother. Even if he had been vain, self-centered, and arrogant, he had still survived all the same treatments Khan had. All the lab tests, all the experiments, all the small tortures. But he had not survived the Director. _He must have been turned away from her. A bullet wound to the chest wouldn’t have killed him and it would be impossible to hide on a forehead. She’s lying. She killed him before he even knew she was there._

      “All of them will come when they can,” Culann said, from his left and a little back. “Y’know, when they’re off their patrols and such. The embalming should keep him...” he sighed, letting the sentence trail off without finishing it. Yes, Narcissus’s beauty would be preserved, even if he wasn’t still occupying his body. They would all get to see him, unlike with Martin. Martin had been thrown into the ground barely an hour after his death, with no service, and with blood still drying on his soaked clothes. They had had to mourn him in the privacy of their rooms.

     “She has to be stopped,” Khan murmured, not lifting his gaze from the casket. “Before this happens to another curious soul.... It could be Julius, next time. Or Ciaran. Siobhan.” Then he fixed his eyes on Culann, turning to do so. She was his weak spot, and it was ridiculously easy to prod. Culann stiffened slightly in response, his jaw tightening.

     “Whatever you need, Khan.”

* * *

 

     Karen pursed her lips, scrolling down the screen with a manic air about her. “If you believe she’ll send out a report on the _reason_ for the Augment’s death, you’re a fool, Karen,” Darcy snorted, reclining in the leather chair next to her. It was infinitely nicer than the unfoldable plastic chair she was perched on. She suspected he had brought it with him from his own offices. Who was running them while he was here, she had no idea.

     “Allow me to hope. I can only assume he found something - she had no other reason to slay him so quickly. Look at the death report, dammit! She shot him in the side of the head. Obviously he was looking at something else,” Karen humphed, glancing at him with a certain measure of doubt for his intelligence. Darcy did not bother looking at the report. He continued drumming his fingers against his knees, giving her a small shrug.

     “Unfortunately for you, I have never been to the British Institute, nor have I ever had the ability to _read minds._ As far as I know - correct me here, if I’m wrong - neither have you,” he pointed out, enunciating all his words as if speaking to a small, half-deaf child. “You cannot find the data you’re looking for on that computer, Director, I’m sorry. Have you tried asking your Augments?” The suggestion was spoken with enough innocent sincerity that Karen almost believed he didn’t know the severity of it. She took a deep breath, reaching forward to turn off the monitor, and twisted to face him.

     “Darcy... Six of them have recently been killed, officially by _my_ orders,” she stated, raising her eyebrows at him as if it would help emphasize her point. “If I attempt to speak to any of them face to face about deaths across the Atlantic, well. I officially fear my _safety_.”

     He gave her a very long look, his finger-tapping slowing. “If you wish to knab her at her own game, Karen, you might have to play dangerously. Just a suggestion.”

     She sighed, and turned the monitor back on.

* * *

  
  


AUGMENT FILES, PG. 45C, CLEARANCE LEVEL 7

AUGMENT THREATS LISTED BY LOCATION AND THREAT LEVEL

 

INSTITUTE OF THE CONTINENTAL UNITED STATES:

MEYER, 0045

 

INSTITUTE OF AUSTRALIA:

JACK, 0358

OLIVIA, 0064

 

INSTITUTE OF SOUTH AFRICA:

SIAN, 0003

 

INSTITUTE OF INDIA:

ATUL, 0589

KAVITHA, 3562

 

INSTITUTE OF CHINA:

ZHANG WEI, 0079

LI JUAN, 2498

 

INSTITUTE OF BRAZIL:

RENATA, 1945

 

INSTITUTE OF GREAT BRITAIN:

KHAN, 3999

CULANN, 2867


	7. Amelioration

_“Siblings._ I sent you each a copy of threats last night - I hope you’ve read them. It’s time they were each individually assessed. I believe somebody emailed me a suggestion last night... a conference, of sorts?”

     There was a cough from somebody further down the table, muffled by their mask. Each of them wore one, each unique, all large enough to cover their owner’s entire face. Secrecy among such a powerful, opinionated, snooty group was, unfortunately, necessary.

     The masked figure who had coughed raised a graceful, gloved hand. This one’s mask in particular was white porcelain, decorated with precise lines of steel gray. After all, how did one tell each other apart in a secret society like this if one did not have a substitute (and just as personalized) face. “Yes. No doubt they are aware, vaguely, of who we are... inviting them to our headquarters is hardly too much of a shock, considering our funding values,” they shrugged lightly, looking down and up the table. A thoughtful murmur ran around the table; colleagues exchanging opinions on the matter, most likely. Certainly a few of them had to have met with their true faces at one point or another.

     Another figure cleared their throat, this one masked in sky blue, tiny birds framing their eyes. “Aren’t they likely to be suspicious? Doubtless they must be aware that they represent the best their respective Institutes have to offer.... they may be worried for their safety. I suggest allowing each of them to bring a companion.”

     The room gave a sort of combined shift, an uncomfortable, unsure movement, reminiscent to a swarm of starlings. If there was anything a group of ultra-rich, powerful people meeting up on the weekends worried collectively about, it was their own personal safety. All of them had seen the footage from America. Some of them had known the assassination victim. They would be putting themselves in a dangerous position, for once, and the more threats in the room, the more they would soil their expensive gloves with sweat. Still, there were no objections, a sign that meant, in this society, agreement, however reluctant. The figure at the head of the table nodded, gold-matte mask bobbing once, and tapped their gloved fingers thoughtfully on the table. “Then we are _agreed._ Wonderful. I will send instructions to each of you on your part.”

     There was another combined shift, this time a collective, colorful nod, and then the group dispersed, silently standing and sweeping out of the room in twelve different directions, through twelve different doors.

 

* * *

 

     Lana carefully slipped into Khan’s room, the envelope conspicuous in her hand. It was made of expensive stationary, she knew, by the sheer weight of it. Nothing that thin weighed so much unless it was expensive.

     A week had passed since Narcissus had been buried in the aging cemetery behind the Institute, his gravestone the freshest in the lot. The oldest ones were barely readable any longer. His patrol was taking it the hardest. Not even Iris had managed to crack a joke in the past week. “You have mail,” she murmured, interrupting Khan’s brooding. Of course he’d known she’d entered, but he hadn’t bothered to look away from the window until she spoke. Even still, his expression was questioning. Augments were not ones to receive mail. All the people they knew were within five miles at all times, after all. He still took a step forward, his hand politely held outwards for it. She handed it off to him, and a second later he was efficiently ripping open the envelope, letting the ripped paper flutter to the floor as he unfolded the letter inside. There was a long moment of silence where Lana just watched his eyes scan across the page, and then he looked up at her.

     “We have an invitation to visit the Amelioration Society in a week and a half. In Switzerland,” Khan frowned, looking more surprised than she’d seen him since he was twelve. His eyes fell back to the letter, his head slowly shaking. “Culann and I, specifically, but of course you will be coming,” he added, giving her letter to read herself and turning back to the window, glaring outside with more intensity than the courtyard called for. Lana sat on the edge of the bed, not bothering to read it. She would not delude herself on why Khan was bringing her to Switzerland; she was useful to him - her company was nowhere on his mind. “I need you to find Culann and let him know. Bring him the letter, and have it burned when he’s done reading it,” he finished, looking over his shoulder at her. She nodded, tucking the note into her pocket and slipping back out of the room as quietly as she had entered, leaving Khan to dwell on the new developments.

     He already suspected that the Director would have her own invitation to the event, and, considering the wording in the letter, they would not be the only Augments invited. It presented a rare opportunity. Khan, nor any of the Augments in the Britain Institute, had ever met a foreigner. Honestly, there were days that he forgot completely that there were other members of his race out there, facing the same struggles, fighting the same battles. He pushed that thought to the side and crossed the room to the ancient armoire he had bought of the bartender in town, when he was sixteen and thought the idea would be funny, and opened it, lips tugging down on the sides. The invitation had called for formal wear; something that was rarely needed in a place such as this - once a government inspection had called for Janice’s insisting they learn proper manners, so he’d learned. It was a challenge calling anybody well-spoken and well-dressed a savage, a thought he and the Director seemed to share. The inspection had gone well, to say the least. Either way, the suit he had worn on that occasion had been much too small to fit for years, and the expense of buying new clothes fit for a visit to that _particular_ society, on their limited allowances.... Perhaps Janice’s knowledge of the impending event would be useful, after all. Such a financially conscious, manipulative woman would never reject a connection so high up on the social ladder. For all Khan knew, she might have been ordering up a mask this very second.

* * *

 

     “Don’t hand me that, Darcy. You know I don’t handle things that haven’t been thoroughly scanned,” Karen deadpanned, refusing to look up from the tablet in her hands. The security footage wasn’t really that important, but she made it a point never to make anything easy for him. He never made anything easy for her.

     He sighed, letting the hand holding the envelope addressed to her drop to his side, tapping irritably against the thick paper. “Karen, it’s not laced with ricin. Take the damned letter, alright? I have one, too, and _I’ve_ already read it. It’s an invitation to Switzerland. Read it.”

     The Director glanced up at him, only to give him a mild glare. “If you’re so intent on my having it, just tell me what it says. I’m not touching it, Darcy,” she huffed, going back to her not-so-important work without ado. It was feeds from the cameras installed within her Institute. Granted, there were only a few in the halls, and one in the center atrium, just so she could keep an eye on gatherings, but there seemed to be an undeniable energy today that she felt obligated to watch. Darcy, of course, was derisive of her instincts, as he was on almost anything to do with her job. “Besides, who in hell would invite me to Switzerland? I avoid the cold.”

     “The Amelioration Society, that’s who,” he snorted, slapping the envelope down onto her desk, sending a few loose papers flying. Of course, he didn’t bother to retrieve them. On the upside, it did grab her attention. Her conflicted glare landed on the imposing little piece of folded stationery in front of her. “I do recall something about their continuous funding of your Institute over the last two decades? Does that sound familiar to _you?_ ” Darcy muttered, folding his arms over his chest with a dramatic little twirl of his wrist. She gave him a familiar dry look, setting her tablet down carefully beside the supposed invitation.

     “Fine. I’ll read it. _Later,_ ” she clarified, holding up a finger to stop something triumphant from coming out of his mouth. “Now get out of my sight. I have too much work to do to have you hovering around, telling me about my funding. Shoo.”

* * *

 

AUGMENT FILES, PG. 25A, CLEARANCE LEVEL 7

CLASSIFICATION AND TREATMENT OF HUMAN, PRENATAL GENETIC EXPERIMENTS

  
The legal debate surrounding the laws governing treatment of humans affected for the better by genetic experimentation (legally referred to as Augments) are unclear and foggy at the best, and nonexistent at the worst. Since the creation of this sub-race of humans, there has always been controversy, and even violence. In the early days of human vs. Augment conflicts, there were several methods of dealing with criminal actions. First tried were common prisons, among common people. The harassment (and eventual death) rate of both Augments and humans placed in that environment were too substantial to continue. Eventually, execution was settled on for the ‘failed genetic experiments’, a label brought forth by the directors of the program....

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think of it so far, if you have the time!  
> Thanks to cryfarting.tumblr.com and cumberbcollected221b.tumblr.com for Beta-ing!


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